


Beautiful

by BlueCrownFics



Series: The Misadventures of Akira & Yusuke [1]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Drabble Fic, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, gosh damn i wish they'd fix the protag label so i dont have to tag 3 different names for the protag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 08:34:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16678186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueCrownFics/pseuds/BlueCrownFics
Summary: Akira was not a connoisseur of the arts. He couldn’t tell the difference between putty and clay even if it smacked him in the face, but he was absolutely sure about one thing and one thing only: Yusuke was talented in all forms of art, regardless of what the little voice in his head told him.





	Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> A quick drabble that was meant to be a warm-up for my P5 big bang submission but my brain decided it overtaxed itself on this one drabble because now it doesn't want to work on the chaptered fic LOL
> 
> Sorry it's really short and pointless, but here I am, officially stepping into the shukita fandom. Hello all!
> 
> This is not beta'd. Don't mind the mistakes!

Akira was not a connoisseur of the arts. He couldn’t tell the difference between putty and clay even if it smacked him in the face, but he was absolutely sure about one thing and one thing only: Yusuke was talented in all forms of art, regardless of what the little voice in his head told him. To Akira, his boyfriend’s talents were plain as day, but to Yusuke, who eyed his latest creation with a critical eye, merely scoffed. He threw the cloth over his painting with a scowl and heaves such a heavy, worn out sigh, Akira can practically feel his boyfriend’s disappointment as though it were his own.

 

“This is an entirely pointless endeavor,” he heard the older boy say. “My apologies Akira. I did not wish to assault your eyes with such a grotesque creation.”

 

 _But it wasn’t._ Akira wants to say. _It’s beautiful. Everything you do is beautiful, Yusuke._ But instead, he says, “Its fine, Yusuke. It’s good.”

 

“No, it’s not!” Yusuke snaps, his frustration clear. “This is not acceptable work, Akira! How could I dare think to present this as a gift to you when it is utter filth?!” He turns a deadly glare toward the shrouded canvas, dark blue eyes filled with such venom it’s almost startling.

 

“It’s not filth,” Akira sighs softly. He draws closer, closing the gap between them and slipping a warm hand into Yusuke’s slender fingers. They interlace together like a jigsaw piece in a puzzle, slotting into place the way they should.

 

Yusuke’s fingers are long and beautiful, unmarred from the ugliness of the word but so full of skill and grace. They make Akira’s fingers look ugly and clumsy in comparison, and yet Yusuke holds it; embraces its warmth. He brings up Akira’s knuckles to his lips and lays a gentle kiss.

 

“It’s not filth,” Akira tries again. “It’s beautiful and even if it wasn’t, I’d still think it’s beautiful because _you_ made it for me.”

 

“But it is not perfect—“

 

“And it probably never will be, but I still find it beautiful, just like you.” The smile he gives Yusuke is warm like the sun and just as bright. The blush that paints Yusuke’s cheeks is noticeable against his porcelain skin.

 

(Akira tries to keep down the pride from showing on his face. Getting Yusuke flustered was no easy task and every instance Akira could manage to do so was a win in his book.)

 

Yusuke draws in closer so that their bodies are flush against each other. The grip he has on Akira tightens as his other hand wraps gently around Akira’s waist. The tips of their noses brush lightly together. A shiver runs down Akira’s spine.

 

The intensity of emotion in Yusuke’s eyes pierces through him. Akira can’t make out what he’s thinking — never really could if he was being honest with himself — but he trusted the boy with his life.

 

With his heart.

 

“Your tongue is a sinful thing, Akira,” Yusuke breathes, voice low. Guttural. “Perhaps it is you who holds the perfection I seek?”

 

He seals the gap between their mouths.

 

Whatever reply Akira had was gone in a flash. He melts into the kiss, molding his lips against Yusuke’s in the hopes that he understands what Akira means; hopes he understands how much Yusuke means to him.

 

Yusuke was an artist. He saw beauty in places most people didn’t and while Akira had no idea what it means to create art or be an artist, he was absolutely sure about one thing and one thing only.

 

He loves Yusuke. Wholly. Completely. Unconditionally.


End file.
